


A piece of Darkness

by Shewritingstuff



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Forbidden Romance, I hate those tags, Love, Romance, Short Story, Smut, The Darkling - Freeform, The Grisha Trilogy - Freeform, The demon in the woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shewritingstuff/pseuds/Shewritingstuff
Summary: A story about The Darkling's first love when he was 17
Relationships: The Darkling - Relationship, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Original Female Character(s), The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Other(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. New Start

It was a new town, a new name, and a completely different story. The boy’s black hair was swept back; wet from the river. Water was sliding down the sharp panes of his face, his neck. His white shirt damp. The first few buttons were undone, allowing the cool air to greet him. The boy didn’t seem out of place, he could easily pass for a shu and so people didn’t question the pale man standing by the river where people washed their clothes and watched their children play by the side; chasing each other, wet and giggling.

People stared at him. But he occasionally got those and was used to them by now, some were lustful and few were calculated. He grew up watching his mom get those same exact stares. Heard her being called a princess from a storybook. But she never allowed it to get to her head like he did. She constantly called him vain, but willed him to use it to his advantage as she had many times before. Lure and then strike, she had taught him. 

He had always traveled light, and so he slung his pack across his back and left the riverside. Women and men’s gazes following his every movement, but no one dared come any closer.

He didn’t pay anyone any mind, until he saw her. A girl had caught his attention. But this wasn’t the first time that that had happened, people in all shapes and colors from all over the world had caught his attention. But that’s all he allowed them to do. He only ever looked; That was all he could do. if they were Grisha, they’d feel that pull to him, they’d come to seek him out for reasons, sometimes even unknown to themselves. He tried his best to stay away from the Grisha who came to him. He didn’t want to touch anyone.

The girl by the river; had golden eyes and brown skin; damp curls matted to her head. He stared back at her, and she immediately looked away. A hint of a smile touching her lips. He smiled to himself and made his way towards the cottage he rented for the week. It was small and simple, but at least he had a bed and a roof over his head. His mother would’ve loved the simplicity of it all. Alas his mom was busy, thus the unusual journey on his own. He was to look for more people like them. He was going to raise an army; he knew he would. He just needed time, and he had plenty of that. The words of people crawled inside his skin like living insects and he hated the fact that he cared too much. He hated that he flinched whenever he heard people talking ill about Grisha or threatening to burn them at the stake. He wanted to do something; so badly. But he couldn’t, not yet at least. But one he was going to build a safe haven for himself, his mom, and anyone like them.


	2. New People

The boy woke up to knocking at his door, and the night sky behind his window. He rubbed his eyes and stood up to unlock the door.

A girl stood in front of him, a silver tray in shaking hands. He didn’t pay much attention to the tray, and only stared at her. Her hair was tied tightly behind her head. Her dress was now clean and dry. She looked at him, and extended the tray. She looked as if she was regretting coming here, or perhaps she had hoped he wouldn’t have opened the door at all. He was glad he did.

“You haven’t eaten yet” it wasn’t really a question and yet he asked;

“What?” He was too distracted by her to do anything else but stare. He didn’t know if she merely came here because she was Grisha and she had felt that tug towards him, or if she simply wanted to bring him dinner. He didn’t want to test the former theory, not yet at least.

She raised the tray a bit higher, forcing him to look at it. Bread, cheese, fruit and a glass of water were placed atop it. “I figured you might be hungry; and father doesn’t like to keep guests–”

He didn’t mean to cut her off but he did. “Join me,” he didn’t know if that was rushed. He didn’t have much experience with anyone. He was only seventeen and the only woman he was used to talking to was his mother.

“Oh” she looked back, bit her lip and after a second too long she nodded. “But I can’t stay long–” he cut her off again. He had a feeling he was truly terrible at this.

“That’s fine. I just need company” he mentally set a reminder to apologize to her before she left. He cut her off too much, and if his mother were here to witness his foolishness she would’ve scolded him. For two reasons, one; people like them shouldn’t expect a love story. Two; he was on his first ever mission without her and he shouldn’t screw this up. He took the tray from her hands, and waited for her to close the door before setting the tray down on the floor where they sat opposite each other.

No one touched the food. He was hungry. But they were looking at each other and neither of them seemed to know what to say. He decided to apologize now instead of later.

“I’m sorry” he blurted

“What for?”

“I cut you off twice. I shouldn’t have”

She smiled, “I’m Samara” she extended a hand to him but he hesitated. He knew better than to go around touching people. He remembered an incident from a few years ago, one that didn’t end well. Noticing his hesitation she retrieved her hand, and looked down at her palm; she rubbed it against her dress. “Sorry. It’s a bit sweaty”

“No..no” he got up. “I just woke up, I should wash up first” he wasn’t completely lying. There was a wooden bucket by the corner of his room where lukewarm water sat. He walked towards it, and washed his face and mouth. Spitting the water in the empty bucket near it. He didn’t turn around immediately. His mother never believed in love. That’s a lesson she taught him when he was old enough to understand. People like them could only lust. And maybe this was it. He didn’t do much when he felt attracted to someone, and to be fair he didn’t really know what to do. And he wasn’t going to talk to his mother about it. That was a conversation he did not want to have.

When he turned around; she had already begun to make herself a sandwich. Crossing his long legs; he took a seat opposite her again.

When she was done, she extended the food to him. “For you” he didn’t question her politeness, or why she was being nice to him. Hee thanked her for the food. They were all nice in the beginning.

Samara easily made herself comfortable around him. She made another sandwich for herself, and began talking to him. Telling him about the cottages her father owned and rented, the people coming and going. The friends she made. Though she rarely looked him in the eyes. He found out that she worked around to help everyone feel comfortable, though without payment. She was explaining to him how when people travel they rarely ever feel welcomed. And so Samara tried her best to change that, to make them feel at home. He nodded, and pretended not to know what it was like to be on the road all the time. He liked the sound of that; a safe haven. Home.

He didn’t know how long they talked—well; he learned not to cut her off and so he only listened. It wasn’t as if he were allowed to say any of the stories he had. So he only paid attention to her, her tales, her face the way she moved her hands when she spoke.

“I helped wash and dry all of their clothes afterwards” she chuckled rubbing at her eyes. “I felt guilty,” she shrugged at that and smiled at him. He noticed the change in her behavior, how shy she was in the beginning, and how at ease she seemed now. She wasn’t afraid to look him in the eyes. it made him happy.

“It was their fault” maybe that was the wrong thing to say because she frowned at that and shook her head.

“But if I didn’t dare them to jump into the mud puddle they wouldn’t have. So of course it was my fault” she was quick to change the subject afterwards. “Will you be staying here tomorrow?” She asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yes. I’ll be staying for a week. And then I’ll go back home” wherever that was in a week’s time. He was going to go find his mother and hopefully by the time he got there he would have found enough Grisha. They usually camped amongst them, but not this time. This time he was going to do his own thing. Not his mother’s, though she certainly would not be pleased.

“I’ll show you around tomorrow if you’re not busy. Will that be alright?” 

“I’ll have places to be. I’ll be gone for most of the day” when she looked disappointed he quickly added “But I’ll find you when I’m back”

She nodded, and smiled at him again. Taking the tray with her. As she stood up. He stood up with her.

“I can walk you to your place, if you want,” he suggested. But she shook her head, and walked closer, getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “My father will be mad if he knew I was up late with a boy. I’ll tell him I was in the barn. I’m always there” she waved him goodbye and he closed the door behind her. Smiling to himself. Olezka, Went back to his bed and pulled his pack out from under it.


	3. Grisha

His journey inside the busy town wasn’t much of a success. He tried following the rumors but he was always too late. They were always burnt alive. He tried convincing himself that tomorrow would be better, that tomorrow he’d see Grisha and he’d try to convince them to hide and then find him when he sends them a message.

Now he was supposed to find Samara. He remembered her telling him about a barn and it was the first place he went to look for her. Lucky him, the place was empty aside from her. She was playing with little kittens by a pile of hay. She looked up the minute she heard the sound of the doors creak.

“Ole!” She picked one of the tiny kittens and met him halfway through “Do you want this one? He’s a little boy” She didn’t wait for him to reply before the kitten was thrust against his chest. He was a soft black kitten with blue eyes and a frowning face that promised bloodshed. The kitten looked at Olezka as if it hated him. Ole smiled at him, and gently rubbed his thumb against its head.

“Their mother died this morning. They’re still little but I’ll help take care of them” of course she was. He sat beside her, and watched her tuck a blanket closer to the other three kittens sleeping. The one in Olezka's hand didn’t seem tired at all. Though it stayed calm and murderous.

“How did your day go, any luck at the market?” He guessed her father told her what he was supposed to be doing here. Collecting antiques for his mother’s shop. That was the new lie.

“It went fine. But couldn’t find anything useful” He should not have said that.

“I could help you look tomorrow, I know my way around the market” he didn’t have the heart to turn her down but she couldn’t come with him for this but he nodded anyway.

“Not tomorrow, but maybe another day” that seemed good enough for her, because she nodded and scooted closer to him.

“I left this one for you to name” she was incredibly close, way too close his breath caught in his throat. He tried to ignore the hand on his shoulder, while the other was stroking the kitten’s head. He knew what this was, he felt it once before. His first kiss, at fourteen. A boy from a town that had long since forgotten him. It was awkward, and a bit unpleasant. But now; so many emotions were surging up, and she looked as if he was projecting his feelings through her eyes. She leaned forward, her eyes moving from his eyes to his lips, and then back to his eyes again. She wanted him to kiss her, and he wanted to. Very badly.

He closed his eyes, kitten still in hand and pressed his mouth to hers. Her hands came up to cup his face, her lips very gentle against his. She knew what to do far better than he did. The pressure of her lips was very welcomed, and he felt his whole body heating from the contact alone. It felt far better than holding a Grisha’s hand to amplify their powers. He opened his mouth to her, feeling her tongue creasing his own, she was pulling him closer, and he never wanted to touch anyone as bad as he wanted to touch her; but the kitten in his hands didn’t allow him to do much. Samara pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, and then kissed him again, with a new sort of hunger. His heart was begging for freedom out of its cell, and he felt an embarrassing sound escape his throat. Samara smiled against his lips, then gave him a soft final kiss before pulling away.

The kitten scratched him the minute he opened his mouth to speak. Samara chuckled, picking the kitten up and bringing him close to her chest.

“He misses his mama, very much” she lifted him to face her, and looked him in the eyes “Don’t you, sweet boy” Olezka lips were stinging. She was talking to the kitten, but all he could hear was the sound of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins. His whole body was hot, and he was worried that the heat was mirrored upon his cheeks in deep pink.

She finally set the unnamed kitten aside and looked at him. Samara smiled shyly at him and then said “I should go...I spent most of the day here. Father really isn’t going to be pleased” oh. Olezka heart and stomach did something, he wasn’t sure of. But it didn’t feel as good as the fluttering he felt earlier.

He nodded. “I’ll leave” He collected his bag, and got up. He wasn’t feeling as bright as his mother always thought he was. Right now, he felt exactly like he was. A boy of seventeen, not a shadow summoner, not someone who could cut with the arch of his arms, a boy who was promised immortality. He felt like a child.

“Wait” Samara got up after him, kitten in hand. “You should keep him. Think of a name” she stood up on her tiptoes. This time, she kissed his lips and looked him straight in the eyes before handing the kitten to him. “I’m going to see you tomorrow” there wasn’t much to do. He felt hope seep into him as he watched her leave the barn.


	4. Love

The week was up, and three weeks had passed along with it. But he didn’t leave. He rented the cottage for more time, with money he shouldn’t be spending. He had found Grisha; more than he thought he would. They all seemed promising. And for the first time in years he found himself hopeful, happy. He was doing something.

And he was in love. Was it possible to fall in love this fast? He didn’t want to leave Samara, but he couldn’t bring her with him. His life was dangerous, unsteady. His life was an earthquake on the verge of happening, and he was going to bury her under it if she stayed. But he was also selfish.

“Ohh what about this” she dragged him by the hand and into a store of old antiques. He was still pretending. No one was allowed to know his real name, nor his real life. And he wondered if she would love him less if she found out. Would she ask her father to light the stake with him upon it, Or would she.

She examined a small, carved horse in her hands, and then she was showing it to him with a smile adorning her face. She was happy. She told him he made her happy. Her father didn’t know about them. She said he would be mad, and Ole believed her. His mother was going to be mad as well, he received a single coded letter from her a week ago, telling him to come back. He hated ignoring his mother, and despite telling himself he was old enough and he shouldn’t miss her, he did. He missed her terribly.

“Do you think your mother would like this?” She picked a castle made of colorful rocks. He was looking more at Samara than at the tiny statue but he nodded. She rolled her eyes and tried to bite away her smile. “You didn’t even examine it, but I’ll get it for her. I like it immensely” He nodded at that again and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. She looked panicked when she pulled away and whispered “You can’t let people see us”

He took a step closer. The old lady was napping on a chair, she wasn’t really keeping an eye on touchy teenagers. He wouldn’t risk it if he wasn’t certain they were safe. He pulled her to him by the waist, “You look lovelier everyday”

“I know”

He chuckled, “Good” and then he was kissing her, he wasn’t awkward and uncertain anymore. He knew what to do, he loved her and her lips, and her mind, her kindness. He loved everything about her. Something crashed to the floor, forcing them to pull apart. The old lady was awake. And the carved horse was on the ground. Samara gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth “Saints, I broke it” she looked at her other hand to examine the castle, which was still intact. Olezka bent down and collected the horse and its two broken legs.

“We’ll pay for it” the old lady was looking at them with interest.

She smiled a toothless smile and said “Don’t worry about it. it was an ugly piece anyway” and just like that, she went back to sleep. Olezka and Samara exchanged a look. They left a few coins on the counter for the castle, and then left.

They walked around the market, buying sweets and stealing kisses in dark corners.

******

Samara and Ole never spent the night together before. Not like this at least. They were tangled in each other, shaky hands pulling off clothes. Lips on skin, sounds escaping throats. They were trying to be quiet, and failing. Samara said she had never gone this far before and Ole assured her that he also didn’t have a clue what he was supposed to be doing. They laughed about it and then kissed and touched until they were both naked, and he was on top of her, then in her. And they held onto each other. Their bodies at an awkward angle that they laughed about, there was a lot shuffling and adjusting themselves until they were both comfortable enough. Her hands were against her hips, pulling him closer as he pushed deeper into her. A fine layer of sweat covering both of them as their bodies came closer. 

When they were done, sweaty and exhausted. They fell asleep in each other’s arms for only a little while before she had woken up and told him she needed to go. He watched her put her clothes back on, smiling whenever their eyes met. Ole got off the bed, put his clothes on and then hugged her close to him. His chin resting against her messy hair “I love you” he whispered.

She looked up at him, “I know” she kissed him gently and then forced herself to pull away. Telling him she was going to bring him breakfast in the morning. It was only an excuse she told her father so she’d spend more time with him.

With his heart full, and his lips hurt from smiling. Ole went back to his bed and hoped to fall asleep so morning could come sooner and he could see her again.

  
  
  



	5. Not his ending

The knocking was too loud, it muddled into his dream. Or perhaps a memory, from a year ago. A boy tried to cut his finger off, wondering if he would get stronger if he had Ole’s bone-finger for a necklace. Ole had cut the boy’s two hands, and then he and his mother had fled. But now the knocking stopped, and he was almost relieved but then a crash happened.

Startled, he sat up on his bed, drenched in sweat. Two large men stood in front of the broken door, blocking his view from outside. They held swords. Maybe they were guards, though he never saw any of them around here. He didn’t have time to process anything before they grabbed him by the arms. And he felt one of them wrapping something harsh around his wrists. Now he was defenseless and they still hit him, kicked, and punched him. He might have a clue on what was happening;but he still wanted to believe he wasn’t this reckless. They stopped when a voice came through the door.

“Do not allow his arms to be free” a third man came at the doorstep, and Ole recognized him immediately as Samara’s father. A large Suli man, with dark hair and bright eyes. Samara had his coloring but she took her mother’s shu features. “Bring him” he demanded.

Lev tried to break free but they were larger, stronger than him. Especially with his arms so useless now. 

“Don’t allow him to practice his witchcraft” They knew. Ole was hit by the realization that he had already suspected, he felt his heart drop. No one knew, no one was supposed to. He didn’t tell Samara. He shut his eyes tight. He didn’t want to think of her. He struggled against them but they were dragging him to where the crowds were. He lost half his mind when he was around Samara, there must have been something that he had missed. A slip. That had to be it.

He saw the torches before anything else, the shouting of people. He could take them all out if only his hands were free, he tried to free himself again, but failed miserably. The sky was dark, but the torches were too bright; it felt as if the sun had woken up early to greet him. People were shouting at him, spitting on him. Throwing things. This wasn’t how he was supposed to go. He tried one more time. He knew they were going to burn him alive if he didn’t free himself. He would have to kill them all. He’d have to flee again. This was never going to stop for him or anyone like him.

Someone tripped him, forcing him to his knees. And when he looked up the stake was hammered to the ground. But it wasn’t awaiting him, it wasn’t empty. Samara was on it, crying; begging for her father to let her go. She said that she didn’t know anything, that Ole wasn’t Grisha. That he was falsely framed.

“Your kind...your contiguous kind” Ole looked up at her father. “You!” He had a fistful of Ole’s hair in one hand, as the other made contact with his jaw. Ole didn’t sway. His mother had been harsher while training him. 

“Let her go” Ole felt dampness on his cheeks. He wanted her, he wanted to save her, he wanted to kiss away her tears and pull her away. But he felt so weak. “Samara” he yelled for her. She was shaking, telling him to tell her father that they were both not Grisha, they didn’t know anything about that. But he couldn’t and he felt like he owed her the truth at least. “I’m so sorry...i should have told you” He watched her face fall at the truth he shared. And he looked away, he didn’t want to see the look of disgust on her face.

“Light it. Having no daughter is better than a filthy one” a man walked closer, setting fire to wood.

Ole yelled until his voice was hoarse. They were saying, he was next. “It’s not contiguous, I swear it. Let her go! I beg you to let her go” they didn’t listen.

He tried to look away again, but her father forced him to watch. He leaned down to whisper. “I’m going to order them to cut your arms and then I’ll have fun seeing you burn. This is all what your kind is good for” the man’s voice was shaky. He pulled Olezka by the hair and made him watch as the fire consumed Samara, her screams were long silenced by the crackling of wood and bone. The smell of flesh was stuck to his nostrils. And he was now being pulled towards another stake. One beside hers. Samara’s father had an ax in his hands, ready to cut Olezka's arms.

Olezka missed his mom. He wished he had told her he loved her enough. He closed his eyes. Ready to accept his fate.

He heard screams, forcing him to open his eyes. And he felt her before he saw her. His mother. She was here. A few other Grishas with her. They pushed people away, knocking the air out of their lungs, but not hard enough to kill them.

He saw his mother clap her hands. Cutting the two men holding him in half, more people yelled and ran away. And they let them. his mother seemed to have been blindingly killing her way to him, and when she reached him, she immediately cut his bonds, and grabbed his hand like when he was a kid and pulled him to her. There was no one left but him, his mother and the Grishas. Everyone was knocked down, either dead or unconscious, most of them fled. Their torches couldn’t stand a chance.

Olezka was taller than his mom, but he felt incredibly dwarfed by her. “My fool” she told him, and he wanted to break. But he couldn’t, not right now.

“Let’s leave before more of them come. The boat is waiting”

*********

It was a new town, a new name. And a completely different story. This boy didn’t fall in love, this boy didn’t lose. They escaped on a boat that cursed night. And he had cried in his mother’s lap.

She had stroked his hair back and said “This isn’t a world for people like us, my boy. You weren’t supposed to fall in love. You were going to outlive her anyway, and then what? How many lovers do you need to see dead before you realize this isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing”

He didn’t say anything to that. He knew that this was not the ending, he knew that it was far from it. His life was never going to be easy. It was going to be complicated and painful, but he was going to live it. He was going to live, and he was going to make a better place for his people. This wasn’t going to break him, but he wondered how long it took to break someone like him.

**********

Many years later, a man with no name, but a title came and swept destruction upon the town and its people. He watched the whole place crumble to the ground, a sick smile adorning his lips as he saw it burn in fire, and wither in darkness. Until it was nothing but charred grounds. No sign of houses or citizens. There was no sympathy in his heart, there was only pure, and sick satisfaction that only a heart drained of humanity could bestow.


End file.
